Day Fourteen and Fifteen of the Juice Fast

Day Fourteen and fifteen...Well... I took a couple of days off. I had an IUD inserted yesterday. After being in a monogamous relationship for a while, and deciding that I really *don't* want kids any time in the next couple of years, I decided to go ahead and get an IUD inserted. 

IUD's have come a long way since the sexual revolution of the 70's, when they were relatively new in this country and the kinks weren't completely worked out. I recall my mother warning me to never get an IUD because they could cause infertility and all sorts of problems in a woman's uterus. -A truly horrifying place to have problems! 

When I went to my primary care physician and requested an IUD, she told me that I would have to sign up for a class about long-term contraception, be tested for Chlamydia (don't ask why that specific STI test is administered...It's just standard issue for getting an IUD, they want to make sure that you don't have *any* STI's but especially that one, as I hear it can cause inflammation in your uterus which is a particularly bad combination with an IUD.) And lastly, I had to make sure I wasn't pregnant. Then, once all of that was done, I could schedule the insertion for the tail end of my next period. They like to put them in then because a woman's cervix is most dilated after her period, which makes for a slightly easier insertion, especially among women who have never had a child (me!).The procedure only took about 15 minutes, but was one of the most uncomfortable few moments of my life to date. When the Dr. actually pushed through my cervix, I had to grip the table. There was this very sweet nurse who kept telling me to relax...that tensing up would make everything tighter and therefore more painful. She asked me what I liked to do to relax...I told her I liked to get a massage. So she suggested that I imagine that this was just like getting a massage. HA! That idea was so funny to me, I couldn't help but laugh. Yes...this is *exactly* like getting a massage...in my uterus...by a stranger...with a speculum, and an IUD insertion tool. Yep. Just like a day at the spa. ;p For the briefest of moments, I thought "Geeze if this is how painful it is to have something as small as a pea go through your cervix, I don't want kids!" I mean, I cannot imagine how painful that would be. When it was done, the Dr. did an ultrasound to make sure that the IUD was in place, and then I was free to go. I felt nauseated and crampy. On our way out to the car, the Cute Boy held my hand, and said he really felt for all of the pain and stuff that women had to go through. "You women do a lot. You have to go through a lot. I'm thankful for all that you do.". Hearing that made me feel better. It was comforting to have a teammate who appreciated the physical sacrifices and responsibilities that women go through. I know, I have a good man. 

When we got home, I made some horribly inedible tortillas and had a small bowl of beans. Then I fed my hockey puck of flatbread to the dogs, and relaxed with a heating pad. I could feel the tissues around my uterus were inflamed and hard, and I marveled at the fact that my uterus (an almost imaginary thing to me...like unicorns, and the tooth fairy) was actually real...AND it was exactly where they had always told me it was. I've never had a baby, never felt anything grow. or push. or stretch there...so to actually feel it (my ute) was kind of amazing and cool. 

So I took yesterday off from the juice fast and just recovered and relaxed. That extended into today, as I was still feeling a bit crampy and tired. But tomorrow, I'm back on it. At my weigh in at the doctor's office, I discovered that I had lost another two pounds. Which is all pretty encouraging. I'm finally beginning to poop normally and feel better from the inside. So progress is still coming along, and I feel pretty good about that. 

Things I learned today:

1. It's OK to take a break to take care of yourself.
2. The Cute Boy continues to impress me and I feel very happy with him by my side in life.
3. If I didn't have health insurance, getting an IUD would have cost me somewhere around $1,000 -for something that is little more than a small piece of mass produced plastic with a little string attached! I think it's completely crazy and just flat out wrong that women often times have to inequitably shoulder the expense, the responsibility, and the pain of contraception, childbirth, and child rearing. There needs to be a cultural revolution to change this. 

Day Thirteen of the Juice Fast

Today, I cooked. I'm still juicing today, but I felt in control enough to actually set to work in the kitchen and make two big pots of ox tail stew with fresh pinto beans. They're on the stove right now cooking over a low simmer, and should be done in about three more hours. I haven't made this recipe since I was a teenager, but I felt confident that I could still make it from scratch, seeing as it was a general staple in my house growing up. My grandparents, who are originally from the Southwest and lived for many years in Colorado, had a large pot of this on their stove year round. It's actually a pretty healthy and tasty dish. It's filling and provides a lot of plant based protein, so I'm making it for my Cute Boy to nosh on while I continue on with the juice fast. 

For dinner, I also made him some light fluffy scrambled eggs and oatmeal buttermilk pancakes. I'm freezing the rest so he and the 'mates can have quick easy healthy breakfasts available. 

Now one would think that all of this cooking would send me into a rabid food frenzy, but strangely, it's just the opposite. I love to cook. Moreover, I love to feed and nourish the people that I love. It makes me feel good to take good care of them. I will admit, it's a comfort to me. It's one of the more pleasant memories and habits that formed over the  many years I spent caring for, and fattening up my terminally ill mother. And now that she's gone, it comforts me to be able to cook for others. I guess in some way, some part of me, imagines that she is still here somewhere...waiting for dinner. :) (Oh how I wish!) But even though she's not here to taste the food, I can still picture what she would say if she were here. She'd smell the fresh garlic and onions cooking, and turn the stew with the ladle to see how it was coming along. And right after her first bite, she'd say with enthusiasm "MmmmMmmm Mmmmmmm!" And now, the Cute Boy does it; and that fills my cup with love. 

An interesting side note about juicing in the midst of a kitchen full of tasty rich smells and food...the freshness of the juice was actually very nice. And I found myself happy to have it instead of something heavy. 

Things I learned today:

1. Juicing continues to get easier. 
2. Cooking gives me comfort and helps me de-stress, even if the food is not consumed by me. 
3. My heart needs people to love and people to feed. I guess this means I have the soul of a true cook. :)

Day Ten of the juice fast

I made it through day TEN! YES! 

The last few days, I've been pouring over the Internet adding new pins to my Pinterest "Food" board. It's become an amalgamation of fresh healthy food and heavenly cardiac arrest food. One of my favorite new sites that I found was http://norecipes.com; upon which I found the egg sandwich image on the right, which inspired me to want to make it. 

This evening, the Cute Boy and I went shopping in preparation for tomorrow's free day. OMG! I had it all planned out...I wanted to make an egg sandwich. My eggs, would be my masterpiece. I was going to really take my time making them. I was going to enjoy this. I was going to slowly whisk together fresh eggs with milk, butter, salt and pepper. Then cook them over low heat so that the eggs get extra fluffy and creamy. Then...there was supposed to be a light buttery croissant, cut in half, upon which would sit my perfect eggs, and smooth meaty spears of avocado, fresh diced tomatoes, and a sprinkle of Diamond Kosher Salt on top to bring out the flavor of the avocado and tomato. UGH! I had really thought this out. But then...the store was out of edible avocados. They had some that were beat up and mush, and then they had a bag of rock hard ones...which would not be ready tomorrow. Now at this point, looking back, I can see what I *should have done* was get what I needed, and then go to a different store for the avocado. Duh. But what I ended up doing was chuck that idea completely and I headed to the frozen food aisle, where I got a box of sausage egg breakfast croissants. 

Along the way...I also picked up fixin's to make my famous oatmeal buttermilk pancakes! Everyone in the house is looking forward to a pancake breakfast tomorrow...with freshly squeezed OJ. ;) I also got a package of Bagel Bites AND Totino's Pizza Bites. I haven't had Bagel Bites since I was a kid, and I've never had the latter before but the cravings that I've been having have driven them to the forefront of my imagination. The strange thing is, under normal circumstances, I know that I wouldn't be buying the pizza bites. Egg sammich -yeah guilty. That is one of my most favorite comfort foods in the world. Oh...I also got some bread and cheese to make grilled cheese sandwiches...and some peanut butter in case I felt like making a peanut butter and marmalade sandwich. I honestly don't know what I was thinking...except that I wanted to "eat all the food" and I couldn't make up my mind what I wanted to have. As we loaded up the groceries, I told the Cute Boy that he would probably have to eat most of this stuff by himself, after my free day. He understood and was willing to take that bullet for me...cause he's awesome like that...and this shit tastes good even if it's not good for you. By the time I got home, I realized what a blessing this shopping trip really was. I'm not too worried about the next few days. I know that I'm going be fine having a free day and then getting back on the juice fast again. What I did realize though  was how I was going to have to actually "practice" planning, shopping, and cooking healthfully. So most definitely, towards the end of my juice fast...I can see clearly that I'm going to work in cooking. I also see the value in the free days because they're not only pressure release valves, but also very valuable test runs for my life after the fast. So clearly...I've got a long way to go before I have a handle on these things. But I am working on it. and gleaning all lessons (both intended and accidental) along the way. 

Things I learned today:

1. Free days are excellent test runs for the real thing: aka. life after the juice fast.

Day Seven of the juice fast

I could hear a strange grinding coming from the kitchen. My normally powerful juicer sounded like it was going toe to toe with a tree stump. 

"Are you breaking my juicer?" I could hear the motor grinding in the other room.

"WHAAAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU." [he shuts off the motor] It's all right. Don't worry.

a few minutes later the Cute Boy enters the room bringing me my juice. "How is it?" he asks.

"Ugh. It's bitter. What was that noise in there?"

"Oh some of those pears you bought were really hard and were getting caught in the juicer."

"Pears??? I don't think I bought any pears?"

The Cute Boy goes into the kitchen and emerges once again holding a small, hard, unripe mango. And that would explain why this morning's juice is horribly bitter. I decide to roll with it. I'm going to just drink it quickly and wash it down with some water. On the plus side, it has instantly killed any and all cravings I've had for other things. I love my Cute Boy. He may not know much about produce, but he's learning, and he is so loving and sweet to me, I find myself laughing with him and enjoying the ride daily. Anyhoo... back to juicing. The green mango made the juice today extremely bitter and I'll just say it...was the kind of fiber that kept me running to the bathroom several times today. So noted. Check. No more green mangoes...unless you're constipated. 

For much of today, my cravings were at bay. They really came up when I took a walk past some restaurants around dinner time. OMG. BIG MISTAKE. I made it home to find one of the menfolk chowing down on a large sandwich...the scent of roasted meat wafted up to me and tickled my tummy. I drooled over his sandwich and headed to the juice machine. I brought out my arsenal of fruits and veggies, and took a look at my composition before I juiced it. It was beautiful. Such a large array of colors! I juiced them together and poured my green juice into my glass. It tasted fresh, and made me think of being on vacation in a tropical place. After just a few sips, I was back in control. I'm realizing that I'm going too far between juices. If I juice regularly I don't get hungry and want to binge on...EVERYTHING. But if I go too long (more than 4 hours) then I feel tempted by things that I can handle otherwise. I was actually hungry when this happened and it was the only big craving that I had today. I'm  wondering if I increase the number of juices that I make will the cravings diminish even more? (I think so...so I'm going to try that tomorrow.) 

Things I learned today:

1. Never ever juice an un-ripe mango. Period. 
2. It's better to err on the side of having too many juices then not enough. Keeping your body fed and satisfied really helps diminish cravings and helps you stay on track. 
3. All of the times that my Grandpa smiled warmly and ate our bad food or drank our bad coffee...and then thanked us and told us how good it was...and encouraged us to keep cooking...leading to our *eventual* culinary skill. -He did that because he loved us BIGTIME. And I'm glad that he taught me that skill. Not every juice that we've made so far have been "good". I've made a few, where the Cute Boy smiled and told me how good it was. And when he made me the green mango juice today, I had to do the same. 

Day Six of the juice fast.

Day six is over and I am actually shocked that it has almost been  a week. I have never done anything like this in my life. Before this juice fast, I was actually AGAINST juice fasts. I thought of them as unhealthy, extreme, and gimmicky. I didn't think they really worked. My arguments were, that the people who lose weight, are most likely losing water, muscle, and possibly pounds...because they were STARVING themselves. Not only did I think that it wouldn't work long-term, but that they would more than likely make things worse by slowing your metabolism and cause your body to hold onto every calorie consumed. It was not something that I was interested in, until my GI tract issues came into play. I was in so much pain that I was willing to try it simply because of the consistent nausea, vomiting, intestinal and abdominal pain, and diarrhea. Not to mention my excessive acid production which has caused painful acid reflux and bleeding. Weight loss was like the cherry on top. The main catalyst to me actually *starting* my juice fast, was the pain. 

Flash forward to today, and I've checked back in again with my Dr. (this time my regular primary care physician -so a 2nd Dr.) and she "fully endorses" my juice fast. She said that after reviewing my lab results from last week, she doesn't think that it's a gallbladder issue. My liver and kidney functions are excellent, and my cholesterol was as well. She seemed to think that it was most likely stress related, but that the "radical" actions that I had taken, by changing my diet so severely, seemed to be working. My blood pressure is great and I am happy to report that since I've begun this juice fast, I have lost 7 pounds! I was surprised at the number because I wasn't really sure if I had lost any weight. The Cute Boy has also lost 7 pounds...but it looks like more on his body. I can see his abs and back have leaned out. In a month, I will be checking back in with my Dr. and running a new panel of lab tests again, to see how my body is responding. I am off of all of my medications except for my anti-depressant, and I feel great! I still have some minor GI tract issues (diarrhea) but my physician said that that would be the last thing to correct and would take some time to completely go away, but that as long as the juice fast keeps going the way it has, it seems like it should be gone soon. 

Around this age, my skin went crazy. 

Some other positive and surprising side effects are related to my skin. I have always had a hard time with my skin. Before I was a teenager, I effortlessly had beautiful, flawless skin, as most kids do. But when puberty hit, my skin went crazy. I had horrible acne that I controlled with oral antibiotics and topical prescription ointments; and even then, I'd still get break-outs! My acne followed me into adulthood. I get deep, large, sub-dermal pimples called cystic acne, and I almost always have some on my face or neck area. They hurt, they leave scars, and of course they're not particularly pretty either. Getting rid of my acne has been a very long struggle and I've tried a lot of different things. It was so bad that I was even considering Accutane. But one of the most unintended yet wonderful side-effects of this juice fast has been my skin. It's not producing as much sebum. If I forget to wash my face, I do NOT wake up with a face full of fresh pimples. It is noticeably brighter, more radiant, and kind of glowy looking. AND it's not oily at the end of the day! All of this is amazing! I wonder what my skin will look like long-term if I keep ingesting lots of fresh fruits and vegetables after this fast? It's kind of funny because this juice fast is just as radical as taking Accutane is, except that the side-effects are so much better for my long-term health, it's cheaper eating this way, and my skin gets better instantly and naturally. So apparently you really can fix skin problems from the inside out. :) I am very happy about this. 

My cravings are getting more manageable. And my overall health is better. At this point, The Cute Boy is back on solids. He doesn't have the same GI tract issues, and he has far less weight to lose then I do, to achieve a good healthy body weight. He broke his fast with Carl's Jr.! OMG! I cannot tell you how much I wanted a chicken sandwich today. I've never even had Carl's Jr's grilled "Santa Fe Chicken Sandwich" before but after hearing about his, I wanted one. In fact...I wanted TWO! The Cute Boy talked me down, and I went home and made a really nice juice. A few sips in and my rabid desire for a chicken sandwich began do dissipate. I gained control again, and then I relaxed and enjoyed the evening. Once I had made up my mind that I just wasn't going to do it, I wasn't going to eat junk food and break my juice fast, that I was going to follow through on my goal of doing 10 days on juice and see what that feels like (actually accomplishing a goal like this) I had an easier time of it. So I'm still going strong and looking forward to what tomorrow brings. 

Things I learned today: 

1. I learned how to distinguish between hunger and a craving. If I'm actually hungry, then a healthy alternative to the craving like fruit, veggies, or juice will sound appealing. If not, then it's just a craving and it will pass in 20 minutes. But if it's really hunger, then I go and make myself a juice and it goes away. Learning what is genuine hunger and what is a psychological/emotional craving is a true life skill. And I'm glad to be finally learning this. 
2. That being said...I am looking forward to eating again in a few days and I've been having a lot of fun on Pinterest finding tasty and healthy recipes. Who knew social networking sites would make "shopping" for tasty healthy recipes so much fun, so easy, and so organized? It's great! 
3. I lost 7 pounds in six days.
4. My skin is clearer. 
5. And oddly enough, I realised that I haven't been depressed. I've been so focused on sticking with the juice fast so much that I haven't had time or the inclination to feel sad. My therapist said that it may also be dietary related which is such a strange idea to me. But plausible after this personal experience.

Day Five of the Juice Fast

Day Five is done, and I'm still on the path!

Tonight was definitely a good test of my willpower. I got together with my girlfriends for "ladies night". Once a week we get together and hang out, while feasting on a pot luck dinner. I knew how hard it was going to be, simply being in a fun social environment with my besties. I was going to want to eat! The woman who hosts it is notorious for her cooking skills. And every week she made something absolutely delicious and tempting. She, was a goddess of food. Her talents: remarkable. This was going to be one hard evening of temptation and cravings.

I prepared for this evening earlier in the day, with my boyfriend. We went shopping at our local Food Maxx, where we found the fresh produce to not only be more varied, but it was also substantially cheaper then the Safeway where we had previously been purchasing our fruits and veggies. We stumbled upon a sale they were having on fresh pineapple -Two bucks! We loaded up on some other things and ended up heading out of there spending roughly eight bucks for two bags of groceries. Before, we were remarking about how expensive this juice fast was going to be, but now we realize that it's all in where you shop, and if you go to the right places, this will not only improve your health, but may actually be cheaper as well.

Ambrosia was my contribution to "ladies night", and fresh juice if there were any takers. Before I headed out from home, I thanked my housemate for all of the tempting shit he eats every day. I swear! Living with men! Every single day, I am bombarded with all sorts of temptation. There is nothing that they eat, that is not of the delicious and tempting sort. Living with this has been like being on a crash course in ninja diet school. My assiduous practice consists of my housemates making taco's, making burgers, making pizza, eating cake, eating more cake, now they're eating pie...and *I* am drinking my juice. My green juice. It has forced me to train my mind and focus. So I felt pretty confident, that after all this practice of restraint, that I could go into a social situation with lots of delicious foods, and stick to my juice fast. I almost lost my shit when I saw the cheesy rice balls from Trader Joes! I wanted to put them all in my face. And it would have been so easy to make an exception and just have a few, but I knew that my veneer of discipline was thin and that if I gave in to one thing, I didn't think I had the restraint to not have others. So I unpacked my juicer and focused on my dinner. I put all sorts of stuff in it: radishes, blueberries, cucumber, kale, red chard, strawberries, pineapple, and carrots. The hostess, and another friend, both had a shot of the deep browny-green juice. Oh my adventurous ones! How I love thee! It was adorable watching their faces pull up in surprise, when they realized that it did not in fact taste as bad as it looked. "It tastes green" one of them said. It was a pretty good juice. And as I sipped mine, I realized how good my body was feeling. And I had the strength and focus to enjoy my drink, and relax about the rice balls that were winking at me from the table.

Things that I learned today:

1. Food Maxx is amazingly cheap for fresh produce, and therefor rocks my world!
2. Kale makes the juice very dark green.
3. I may be struggling with my cravings, but I am also at the same time, THROUGH my struggles, developing more strength, self-confidence in my ability to succeed, and ability to chose healthy foods on a consistent basis. 
4. Those little tiny frozen pizza bites will haunt your dreams, if you let them. :)

Day Four of the Juice Fast

I made it through day four. The temptations and cravings are still everywhere. But I'm playing with it now a little bit more than before. I'm noticing how I can get a craving for say...a toasted onion bagel with cream cheese, or a bagel dog with mustard. and I can think about it, feel the pang inside my body, and then just divert my attention CONSCIOUSLY to something else; thereby, letting the craving and pang inside my body go. It's like my body has been in control of me, my cravings for fatty, salty, creamy junk food were running full speed, with no real control. And I'm learning control. It's not easy yet, but I feel myself growing here and am very proud of the last few days.

I watched the documentary that kind of kick started this "Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead" again today. It helped me recommit to doing this juice fast, and also let me know that it does get easier. Apparently, I'm still in the "detox" phase...well...according to the timeline that truck driver gave his overweight brother. He was trying to get him to try juice fasting for his health...and he said that he should try it for at least a week because the first week you are not feeling your best. Meh. Who knows? I am feeling better. Still off of the stomach acid suppressants and I haven't had to take the anti-nausea pills, or the muscle relaxer for my intestines. So I'd say, this thing is still going as planned, and I look forward to seeing what changes may come. :)

Things I learned today:

1. I can refocus my attention at will, including times when I am having a physical response to hunger cravings in my body. I can actually do something else, and my craving will go away within 20 minutes. 
2. That taking control of one aspect of your life, no matter how small, leads to other positive changes too. 
3. The Cute Boy must really think my skin is looking better because he mentioned it again today.  
4. Good nutrition actually does give you pep!

Day Three of the Juice Fast.

Day three, and I made it through pretty well. So my struggle yesterday both helped and hindered my progression. It hurt a little by sending me back to square one with the cravings. I had to go through the initial cravings of the first 24 again. But admittedly, they were far less this time BECAUSE of my fall from grace with the cupcake. I learned from that experience, so this time around, when I started feeling temptation, or hunger, or cravings for (today it was mini taco's...you know...those tiny ones that you can get from the freezer isle at Trader Joes?) ...Well previously, those had always seemed completely UNappetizing to me. But my housemate came home and baked a bunch up in the oven for his dinner, filling the entire house with the seductive and tantalizing aroma of mini-tacos. Yep. You heard that right. I'll probably never utter *that* ridiculous sentence out loud, but that is how jonesing I was people. I wanted to leave the house. And escape from temptation. But then Cute Boy said something that made me stand my ground. 

"You're gonna have to be able to overcome your cravings one day. People eat, and there's food everywhere." It was so true. I need to develop and master my ability to take charge over my cravings and impulses, and make good level headed decisions for myself. Trying to cloister myself off to avoid that is pointless because sooner or later, in order to have a healthy lifestyle *longterm*, I'm going to have to be able to go out into the great big world, where people eat all sorts of shit that's not good for them but tastes, smells, and feels good. And I'm going to have to be able to have the willpower to (even in that environment) make these same good choices for me. I have to be looking forward to the future, and my lifestyle choices beyond the fast. 

When consulting with my physician before beginning this juice fast, he said that the reason most diets don't work, is because they're not things that people can live with for the next 30 or so years. It's not enough to just lose the weight and momentarily improve your health, if you're not willing to also make the major lifestyle changes required to maintain those changes and continue to eat, drink, live, exercise in a way that you would be happy to make your life. So austerity is out the door for me. I have learned yet again, from past failures/experiences. In my teens and early twenties I was a McDougall vegetarian, which for those of you who didn't grow up in Sonoma County, he basically endorses a vegan diet. 

The basic idea behind McDougall Vegetarianism when I was doing it was: 

1. No Meat. Of any kind...and this includes fish and chicken for those of you who think that doesn't count. Also...no animal products, with the exception of honey. But no animal fats or lards. 
2. No Dairy. Milk, cheese, yogurt, etc. 
3. No Eggs.
4. Try to eat as many FRESH fruits, vegetables, and salads as possible. Legumes, baked potatoes, and whole grains are your friend. Eat them but always go for the whole grain unrefined version. 
5. You can eat bread and pastas but make sure they adhere to the restrictions of no dairy, eggs, etc. and make sure they're whole grain. This is going to mean a lot of package reading. Get used to this. It's all part of the McDougall lifestyle. But that's a good thing because you will become more conscious about the types of foods you eat, and actually *know* what's going into them.

The McDougall diet still stands today. I recently read an article about it, where the message seems to have been refined a bit from what I recall as a teen (but who knows...maybe I wasn't paying attention back then and missed this part?). Dr. McDougall has written a new book called "The Starch Solution", in which he still pushes his traditional diet but he emphasises the usefulness of ingesting plant based starches in our diets. This is a quote from the article promoting his new book: 

"Don’t skimp on the potatoes, corn, beans, whole grains, squash and other forms of plant-based starch. As long as you eat at least 900 calories of starch every day, you can eat whatever else you want and as much as you want.

It’s the same diet he has been advocating for the past 30 years, but after watching the rise and fall of low-fat and low-carbohydrate diets, McDougall still swears by it. The plan works because starches are low in calories and fat, he explains. When consumed at the level he recommends, they replace high-calorie, high-fat meats, cheeses and oils." 

This all makes a lot of sense to me. And from my years of experience eating this way, I can say that it really is  very difficult (almost impossible) to eat this way and get fat. So beyond the juice fast, I will most likely be returning to eating this way primarily. I will also, from time to time, as a special treat, have steak, cheese, ice-cream, whatever I like really. From what I recall, once you really throw yourself into eating like this, your taste buds seem to change and strangely, healthy things begin to become what you actually crave, and the heavier foods become less and less tempting, after you've indulged in them a few times, and found your stomach hurting for hours later. I will try to have a middle-way approach to my diet. Eat healthfully, but not focus on the restrictions as much as the desired things to eat such as fruits, veggies, and whole grains. 

The things that I have learned today are:

1. It's worthwhile to consider your relationship with food. Before this fast, I hadn't really been aware of how tied into food I was. My psyche, my social scene, and my happiness is deeply connected with food. That's not the end of the world. It's just an observation, which then makes it noticeable to me how important it is for me to develop my inner-strength and a more healthy relationship with food.
2. If you juice enough, your kitchen can smell fresh and green, like the Juice Shack, or a flower shop. 
3. One cannot juice a banana. ...But I gave it a go anyway. ;)

...oh it's also worthwhile to mention that cravings were still there today, but manageable. I did not have to take any of the anti-nausea medication, the muscle relaxer that works only on my intestines so that they stop hurting and giving me chronic diarrhea (yay TMI!), I also didn't feel nauseated today, I didn't have any acid reflux (totally amazing! Because mine is and has been bad for a very long time.) and I didn't have to take the medication that keeps my tummy acid production low..and I was still fine. Amazing. I felt good and clean from the inside. I had a bit of pain in my abdomen/intestinal area but not enough to warrant taking the medication for it. So these have all been really great improvements. The Cute Boy tells me that he thinks my skin is looking more radiant and glowy. Which is great encouragement (thanks Cute Boy!) and also just feels good to hear. 

The Juice Fast Days 1 and 2

The first 24 hours were the hardest so far. But I made it. I stuck to the juice fast. But today (day two), The Cute Boy's sister came to pick-up her pooch from our house, and as a thank you for watching Winnie, her basset hound, she brought us two chocolate cup cakes from a local bakery. ZOMIGOD! At first, Cute Boy told her he was sorry, but we had already started a juice fast. But when he turned to me and asked if I wanted to break the fast for these cupcakes, I eagerly said YES! I thanked her and then as soon as she left, The Cute Boy and I ate them. They were good, but I didn't fully enjoy it because of the guilt I had from throwing myself off of the wagon for a cupcake. And once that floodgate was opened, I had to have the chicken hotdog that I had been jonesing for during the first day. My boyfriend and roommates tried to keep me on my fast, but I refused. At this point, my hunger welled up inside of me like a lion, and I had to eat a CHILI DOG! I nuked the hotdogs, and ate one plain and made myself another one with chili, cheddar, and onions. My tummy ached as I ate. But I managed to keep down my food.

Afterwards, I cleaned up and got back on my fast. I refuse to feel too bad about eating these things today. It's true, I let myself down, but that's to be expected sometimes. Creating new habits and paths in life includes the times that we try and fail, or just don't do it perfectly. So what! Even with this little misstep, I'm still very proud of what The Cute Boy and I have been doing. During the last two days, we've juiced more fruits and vegetables than most people will eat in a week. -EASILY. I am proud of getting through the first 24 and for NOT diving into a big bowl of pasta or a cheese pizza like I was tempted to do countless times that day. I'm developing self-restraint and discipline with my food choices. This stuff all relates to deep karma for me, so it's pretty hard stuff to change. But I'm going for it!

I have learned a few things so far:

1. Stick to your goals. Don't make exceptions because it just opens the door to other *exceptions*. If you don't stick with the juice fast perfectly, don't waste any time feeling bad about it, just get back on the juice fast.

2. The first 24 hours are by far the hardest. It's like your body can't believe that you've actually begun this crazy thing. But don't worry...it gets easier. And the hunger pangs and random wild cravings do diminish. Eventually your brain will stop brainstorming about all of the nummy food that you can no longer eat and get with the program.

3. It feels good to be tempted and to have the strength to *not* react to that impulse of momentary temptation.

4. Juicing tastes great! The mixes that we've been making are approx. half veggies and half fruit, and it tastes so fresh and really good.

5. Drinking lots of water helps to feel full and stay hydrated.

6. It really does feel better. I say this while also admitting that I have been in a lot of pain the last few days from my GI tract issues, but the longer I stick with it, the better my body feels and seems to be reacting to this.

7. I think eating fruits and veggies will be much easier after this. 

Moving In With Men: Gird Your Loins

"You're worried about the silverware?" He blurted it out like an accusation. I was being petty. It's true. I can't deny it. You see, we're in the process of moving in together. And I've never done this -live with a guy before. OK. That's not exactly true. I've "lived with guys" before...as in my roommates. And I never had any problems with that. Probably because Ron, (one of my previous housemates) had come up with the genius idea of having a maid come in every other week and clean the deep stuff. She'd wash the floors, and vacuum the whole house, including our rooms if we left the door open and the floor was clear of stuff. She'd even clean our windows and window sills so they never accumulated that gross schmutz that most people seem to have. And when the house was sparkly and clean, she'd go into the garden and cut some fresh flowers, leaving them in cute little bouquets all over the house...in the bathroom, on the dining room table, in the kitchen, even in my bedroom. I loved it! The main reason that we had a maid though was to avoid arguments. The kind that would arise when one roommate felt that they were doing more of the gross work than the others. I think this was particularly helpful in the bathroom area. With the maid, none of us ever had to scrub the tile, or for that matter...scrub the toilet. This can get particularly gross living with men, as they seem to sometimes *miss* and hit the floor next to the toilet. And my fears of how to *diplomatically* handle these situations sans maid service are starting to come up. I'm afraid of disrupting "The Dude Palace". I've got to get over this.

I honestly like living with guys. Apart from the occasional gross surprise that men seem to bring. Like cutting one on your foot while he sits down on the couch and you *naively* play footsie, teasingly nestling it underneath his oh-so-cute tushie, and then brrrrpppp. Insta-foot-massage of the *unwanted* kind (to which he vehemently denies ever happened.) But my foot knows the truth! And there's also the dude clutter, of video games, and movies, and dirty plates and glasses everywhere, which somehow seems worse than when *I* leave the same things around. Maybe because my stuff is interesting to me and theirs for the most part, is not. I have no interest at present in learning a new coding language or on perusing a Chemistry text book. But I like having these things somewhere in the living room. Just as to where is the question at hand? We've already established that the Cute Boy's family kitchen table will be the one we are using. And I like it. It's cute. It's oak. And it has a lot of good memories associated with it. It's one of the few family pieces of furniture he has actually. I like the idea of sitting down to dinner at it with him and the 'mates, and having house dinners.

You see...what I really want, more than anything, is that feeling of home. But I'd like *this* home to be a further evolution of my past ones. I want this one to be clean and inviting. Comfy and warm. Someplace that people really enjoy being. It's got the potential that's sure. And we'll get there. It's already an awesome house. And they've got most everything that a person could want by way of entertainment. I love being there and evening's spent in the living room are enjoyable. Scott and I take our dogs for walks or over to the nearby park to play fetch. I know I'm going to like being here. It's just lacking a woman's touch. I just get so hung up on the details. It actually IS important to me how my fork feels in my mouth. To the Cute Boy, this predilection that I have with nice silverware is weird. The oddly bent tines of his thin and tinny silverware seems fine to him and every one else in the house (all dudes for the record). But to me, it detracts from the sensuous feeling of pasta and cream sauce gliding over the tongue. I like to *experience* my food. It's like breathing or laughing to me. It's a part of every day life that I relish and enjoy. A while ago, I made a minor investment in what I like to think of as "nice silverware". I was at the downtown Crate and Barrel, near Union Square with a friend of mine and I just decided that if I was going to do it...I better just do it now. I had been eyeing the same set of silverware for oh...the last 7 or 8 years. And it seemed silly to *not* buy it. Every so often I would compare my red plastic picnic ware from Target, to the set I secretly desired, and I'd imagine how much better the food would feel if it was on the sturdy and chic set from CB. For the record, it did feel better. So now, naturally, I want to bring over my set and use it. Which isn't a problem, I'm sure. The problem is me again. I think about the janky bent tines and bent spoon handles they have...or how they will sometimes use butter knives as ad hoc tools to open things with, and I cringe.

Will they do this to my flatware? -Probably.

Won't they see the obvious superiority of these instruments and treat them accordingly? With respect? -Don't set your heart on it.

The silverware is just a small thing. This fear of living with men goes all over the place. And honestly, I need to just get over it. I need to love the things I love and use them, and not worry about weather or not they will break -because they will. Eventually, everything breaks or wears out. Entropic decline is the way of all things. And I've just got to make peace with that fact and get on with the business of living and enjoying. The *people* are what's important...not preventing wear and tear on my things. ...But it would be nice if my forks  could survive this move.

Hold My Hand...We'll Get Through This Together.

He told me to hold his hand. "Just hold onto my hand, and relax. Just hold on and breathe and let it pass. This will pass. And you will make it through. Just hold onto my hand." It was the same comforting message that he gave me when I was in the midst of an anxiety attack. When my emotions would well up inside of me and become uncontrollable staccato. Jerky breathing and movements. Unable to get a good gulp of fresh air. I would pinch my eyes shut as tightly as possible and feel his hand in mine and breathe.

It's no wonder that I'm having these feelings so much right now. I am at a precipice in my life. And beyond this point is the unknown of my life. Nothing will ever be the same again. But I'm glad to have someone kind and gentle to remind me that if I just hold on, that this will pass, and I will make it through...and he will hold my hand the whole way. Thank you. I needed that. 

The Last Sunday Brunch In Winter

I went out to the last Sunday brunch that I will be having for a while. And it waaaaas good! The Cute Boy and I ventured out in the rain, this wet Sunday morning, to one of my favorite spots in Graton: The Willowood Market Cafe. Upon being seated in the back, in one of their cozy little tables for two, our waitress brought us two cups of coffee and asked us "What'll it be?" We looked at her and smiled. I think my smile was more like an elated child's Cheshire grin. My eyes seemed to say "You're in for a laugh, here we go..." And then, I hit her with it. I told her I was going to be ordering three breakfasts. I placed my order swiftly and decisively. I knew what I wanted before I even got there. "I'll have the Eggs Benedict, the Monte Cristo, and the Huevos Rancheros." I handed her the menus and smiled up at her sweetly.

"OK" she said with a laugh. "And what would you like?" she said looking down at The Cute Boy. ...Now I feel it's important to stress here...The Cute Boy is one beefy hunk'O man. He looks like the kind of corn-fed, good, solid stock that he is. Kinda like he played football in his High School glory days and will forever more carry that solid broad-shouldered manly physique with him. He didn't actually play High School football, but he looks like it. So when he looked up at her with his sweet baby blues and ordered *just* the Eggs Benedict, I think it threw our waitress a little. She had to repeat the order to us and even come back one more time to make sure she got it straight. I imagined her saying "The little lady at table 4 would like three breakfast's and her beefcake boyfriend will be having one. OK. Check. Got it. ???"

I'm not pregnant. But there is a very good reason that I am eating like it is going out of style. ....Oh...and one more thing...before we left, I ordered a crème brûlée too! Some part of me felt horrible just doing it. I thought about people who had little or no food, and about saving money. But ultimately, I went ahead with my plan anyway. It's not like I do this every day. And honestly, this is one of the cool parts about being an adult and paying for everything yourself: you can get, whatever you want. You can order two or more different things if you want to. Obviously, I didn't eat it all. I just munched away at the parts that I wanted and liked, split my Eggs Benedict with my boyfriend, and then went home with two large containers full of food. (I'll be eating breakfast food for dinner tonight...as well as breakfast tomorrow!)

The reason that I was indulging in all of these delicious salty, savory, and fatty foods, was because on Tuesday, my juicer arrives. Yes...you read that correctly...my *juicer*!

Some time last year, my friends Laurelin and David watched this documentary called "Fat, Sick & Nearly Dead". (If you want you can click on that title and watch it for free on Hulu.) It's about this guy from Australia who went on a juice fast in order to regain his health. This not only improved his life tremendously, but inspired him to then try to get out the word to the average person as to what the potential health benefits are to eating (drinking really) a diet that is rich in phytonutrients.

For the past couple of years, I've been having some pretty bad gastrointestinal issues, primarily due to stress. I'll say it, I'm a stress puker. When things get stressful for me, I toss my cookies. Or...even worse...I get horrible diarrhea. -Sometimes BOTH! :p It got so bad that my stomach was going into overdrive with the acid production, and I even got an ulcer. I've tried the traditional Western medicine approach -and I'll continue to do that as well. But I'm now more open to trying this whole juice fasting thing. I'm hoping that it will reset my G.I. tract to a healthy normal state, help me feel better in general, lose weight, and have more energy. We'll see. But I'm willing to give it a go. A serious go.

My friends who have tried it, said that they could really feel the difference in their bodies from the days that they didn't juice. Laurelin said that it just felt good. Like she felt cleaner from the inside. Healthier. More energy. And I have to say, all of that sounded very nice to me. I want to feel "clean from the inside". My trainer really wanted me to focus on eating more fresh raw fruits and vegetables. And when my Aunt, who is recovering from cancer, and also happens to be a good level headed health professional said that she was going to be juicing as well, and made the whole family sit down and watch the "Fat, Sick & Nearly Dead" documentary over Christmas, I knew it was something that I wanted to try.

So I ordered my juicer from Amazon. And when it arrives on Tuesday, I'm going to be doing it. Vegetables, fruits, nuts, and beans. I remember when I was a McDougall vegetarian, I never really had to limit my portions. It was literally impossible for me to eat so much fresh fruits, vegetables, brown rice, and beans that I got fat. And believe me...I tried! ...Well...I didn't really *try*. But I guess what I'm saying is that I chowed down. I ate as much as I wanted, and I exercised, and I remember just feeling good. I had energy. I felt clean from the inside.

SO I'm resetting my body. This seems like the perfect time to do it too. I'm just now, recovering from a mild case of Walking Pneumonia. I've been sick since Christmas. And my lungs are not back to normal yet. It's way better though. But I realized that this is a perfect time to try this juice fast. My reasoning is, that I've actually eaten a lot less this last month because of my cold. There were a good two weeks where I barely ate. So I think it will be a nice segue into juice. Last night, The Cute Boy and I ate a pizza dinner at his sister's house. It was so good! But we didn't even make it out of her neighborhood, before I had to pull the car over and puke. -I threw up six times last night. Violently. In all likelihood, I will probably get sick from what I ate earlier today. But I'm really hoping that this new diet will help relieve this. I have nothing to lose, and a whole lot to gain. Wish me luck!

One Year Anniversary

Today is officially our one year anniversary!

After my mother died, (as I'm sure you all know), I was besieged by so much grief, it was hard to even breathe on some days. And then came the calm. The melancholy. The quiet days of just being. Learning to breathe again. Noticing the sun outside and the squirmy little puppy that was mine, and the elegant sleek racing dog that was always there. -These were my new family. This was the new pack, sadly, without my mother.

This was where I was, when love found me. Who in the world would have thought it possible? The state that I was in was pretty much as unattractive as I could imagine myself. -But I guess that's how you know when it's real; love that is.

In this year, there have been so many things to be grateful for. I have completely fallen apart. And I found someone who loves me, even in that state. It all started with friendship and a crush, many years ago. When we reunited, I think we both liked each other almost immediately. By the end of the first day together, we both felt something good. Was it love? -Not yet. Whatever it was, it felt nice.

Early on, I had to have a tooth extracted that was growing up into my sinus cavity. I remember being so surprised when The Cute Boy showed up at my door unannounced, with a basket of flowers and a card (one of the few that he's given me -'cause he's not that into cards). It said "I hope you feel better". It was a day *before* my surgery, and he was already wishing me well. I remember standing there at my front door, perfectly healthy and smiling at him. It was one of the sweetest things that a guy had ever done for me. -a preemptive get well wish. He offered to take me the Doctors and take care of me afterward, but I declined. I had already made plans for another friend to drive me. In the end though, The Cute Boy did help out when I needed my prescription but still couldn't drive because of the sedative. He went and got it. It was funny, because although I had gotten my mother's prescriptions many times, I had never actually had a friend go pick up mine for me. I was worried that they wouldn't fill it for him or that there would be a problem and I would have to go down to do it myself. (Ye of little faith!). He didn't have any problems. That shifting, from being the caretaker, to being the cared for, was a strange one for me. I didn't trust it at first. But there would be many more opportunities for The Cute Boy to prove to me his trustworthiness. His tenderness. And most of all, that I was safe. Isn't that funny? Safe!? Why on earth would I *not* feel safe??? But looking back on it, it all makes sense. I had spent so many years, taking care of my mother, always being the one to protect and shelter her. To love her. To care for her when she was sick. To handle everything and try to hold it together while my whole world fell apart. I can't tell you how hard it is to watch someone that you dearly love deteriorate. To witness their body betray them and rapidly wither and change in sickness. The most painful memories I have are of this, and of being completely helpless to stop it. During this all, I was the guardian. I stood watch over her, protecting her. But who was there to protect me? I hadn't even realized that there was anything missing there, or that I had such a deep need, until I got sick around Christmas this year, and The Cute Boy took me over to his house and set me up on the couch. I could see the beautiful twinkling lights from our Christmas tree. And he gave me full command of the television. It was a little overwhelming to be perfectly honest. The last time I watched TV, we had basic cable, and pretty much just got 12 channels. The rest were all Home Shopping Network or rotating public announcements or broadcasts of city council meetings made at our local community cable station. Not only was his television enormous, but there were over a thousand channels. A thousand channels! I didn't even know how people could watch so much TV. Where did they find the time? And how did they navigate it all? I stuck mainly to the special cable stations, like HBO or Showtime. But even then, there were all of these extra versions. The only channel that he didn't have, that I wanted to watch was MTV Arabia. -I was curious. Anyhoo...Set up on his couch, nestled under a comforter, it felt nice to be there with The Cute Boy and his roommates. They were actually really surprised at how I could seemingly sleep through anything. Their raucous laughter and chiding. What he didn't know, was that this felt good to me. To be sick, to be weak, and to be able to close my eyes and rest, knowing that there was a house full of people who loved me and would never let any harm come to me. It reminded me of home and family. Of being a child, and feeling safe and protected. Of being tenderly loved.

There are so many things to be grateful for, and these are only a few of them. 

Oozing Snot But Still Having a Good Time...So this is what it feels like to be a garden snail?

When I was a teenager, one of my closest friends had a belief (passed down from her mother) that "Whatever you are doing on New Year's Eve, is what you will be doing for the rest of the year." -For me, these words were like a curse. They would propel me into a frenzy of activity and worries, trying to make those few precious hours really count, and somehow be "the best hours of my life" up until that point. Consequently, many NYE's were filled with so much pressure, that it detracted from the fun that I could have been having, had I not felt *obligated* to be having such a good time. Just to be clear, my NYE's weren't that radically different from anyone else's. I would get dressed up, go out, have fun with my friends. We would find fun things to do, sometimes going to parties, sometimes going to big public gatherings of people, or dancing. It was fun. But I still felt the pressure of the curse. I would compare my relatively ordinary life to those of characters in the movies and feel let down. How come, at the stroke of midnight, I wasn't passionately being kissed by the dashing man of my dreams? Where was my Harry (like from "When Harry Met Sally") making his way to wherever I was, crossing the room, just to profess in the most touching way possible his deepest and most ardent affection for me? Compared to that, my life was a let down. I was a 13 year old girl with a lions mane of crimped hair, and slouch socks, eating pizza and staying up late with my girlfriends. When I got older, not much changed, except for the hair and slouch socks. Oh sure the parties changed. Things got a little more grown up. But those cycling feelings of pressure and disappointment followed me into adulthood. 

Sometime around my early twenties is when things finally began to change a little bit. I think it was actually my first laid back NYE since the casting of the curse. I was visiting some friends for Christmas in the Seattle area, and stayed for New Year's. Some time during the visit, a group of us had gone down to the Franklin Covey store to pick up new planners and paper refills for them. I chose the "Seven Habits" planner, modeled after the book. It actually felt luxurious getting that planner. The cover was a nice textured brown leather, something that would wear nicely over time. Somewhere in the paperwork for setting up your planner, was the idea of a mission statement. A personal mission statement to kind of focus and guide your life. Eva and I took our planners down to a local coffee house and sat there, listening to warm, coffeehouse jazz and merrily philosophizing about what we wanted our lives to be like. Who we wanted to be. What we wanted to contribute to the world and how we wanted to connect with others. Then, once our mission statements were done, and our Covey planners were all set up for the upcoming year, we would write out our Buddhist determinations for the upcoming year. -Goals that we were willing to commit to for the next year. For many years after, even when Eva and I were in different states, we would do this tradition. This year, I haven't gotten on it *yet*. But I will. 

This year, I was horribly sick on NYE. And not only was *I* sick...but my fabulous boyfriend had it too! Together, we were a coughing, hacking, fever-ridden, wheezing mess. Snot oozed out of us. Whole boxes of tissues were used up and discarded. I barely ate for a week. We stayed in this year and cuddled and watched movies. The little girl in me, who is still somewhat daunted by the words of my childhood friend, thought "Oh great...so what does this mean? I suppose I'm going to be sick a lot this year. And spend a lot of time at home doing nothing, while every one else is out having fun." But then the adult woman in me told that little girl to calm down because I was actually happy. Even being home sick, I was having a good time with The Cute Boy. It felt like we were doing something delicious, even though we were only hanging out, talking, and laughing, and cuddling. It felt good to just be myself, even a really sick and slightly gross version of myself with bedhead because even in that state, I was having a blast with an awesome guy who loved me and was tender with me. He does things. Little things that my family used to do for me. Like rubbing my back and cooing "sana, sana, sana culita rana" to me. And he got me a washcloth and rinsed it under cold water, rung it out, and brought it to me when my fever was so bad that even my eyeballs felt hot. It may not sound like much, but believe me, it is. And we both feel it -the gratitude of finding and loving someone, who loves us in return, and takes good care of us. We learn and we grow. And I'm trying to outgrow my childhood insecurities and enjoy my life more. It's a process, but it's coming along. More and more, I'm realizing that being successful in life isn't about being perfect. It's about being myself and loving myself with all of my imperfections. It's also about enjoying life, even through the challenges. 

Just Be Yourself

Here's a tip: 

In reality...real people fuck up. 

All. 

The. 

Time. 

And we all know this. Just from our own experiences living life, we know this. So why are we so worried about it? Why get so freaked out when we drop the ball? Or look a little awkward? Or attempt something and fail? Why try to deny the truth, that sometimes we're wrong and make mistakes? Doesn't it seem better to be a little more open and honest with who you are and what you think? Maybe make the daring risk to be wholly yourself, and hope that maybe, just maybe people will like you for who you really are? And that's not to say that people don't employ this kind of mentality in their personal lives. I think many do. But there seems to be a distinct disconnect and compartmentalization of who we are when we enter the work arena, or the dating arena, and church, and who we are when we're more comfortable and either alone or with our best friends. When the stakes are high and the political climate is uncertain, most people pull back and damp down their inner glow and just try to blend in. -Be like everyone else. And I think this is a mistake. I think first and foremost, we should be striving to think for ourselves. Know who we really are and what we personally think and feel. And then to share that wisdom and inner truth with the world. Just let your light shine! 

In my most recent romantic relationship, one of the things that I love most is getting to know my boyfriend better. I had described my feelings relating to this to a friend of mine. It was early on in the relationship, and we had just reached a hallmark moment. I was on my period, and my boyfriend had offered to go to the store to pick up tampons and ice-cream for me. “He had me at tampons and ice-cream” I told my friend. It was so true. Now bear in mind, I was the kind of girl who used to have to go to the store for maxipads and tampons and feel compelled to buy “something else” just to cover up the fact that I was really just there for period supplies because world, yes...I was on my period and was gushing torrents. It was so embarrassing to me that I would try to cover up the big package of Always with *wings*, with a few carrots. I would put the carrots right on top like teen-girl-period-camouflage. 

“You do not see these tampons and maxipads. These aren't the droids you're looking for.” 

Needless to say, my tampon mind  tricks fooled no one. But I guess it made me feel better at the time and a little less embarrassed. When The Cute Boy offered to “man up” and get my “lady supplies” for me, he instantly won about a million kajillion love-points with me. It was a very simple yet loving gesture on his behalf. I went onto described it to my friend like this: “I loved how it was not a big deal to him...and there are so many moments of connection and intimacy. Open conversation. And that beautiful thing...where we explore the world and ideas together through conversation. To share a part of yourself with another human being. To be. To simply strive to be and to keep being -open. A sincere honesty of the soul. Kind of like 'Here we are...two beings in the universe and this is who I am.'” I went onto say that “ I am being so open and honest with MacArthur in large part because I know how honesty is the key to being known. It's prime for connection. Intimacy. True acceptance. Real love. In order to let someone into your heart you have to be honest with them about who you are. What your faults are. What your dreams and goals are. What you're struggling with. And where you are headed in life. I also have learned that it's simply worth it to make that risk...I've come away from the experience firmly knowing in my heart how important honesty is in a friendship and primary relationship. In so many ways...It's also simply good to be authentic because then I have *the chance* to even be loved. To be seen for who I am. And loved for the unique creature that is me. -There's grace in that. True grace in that feeling...of being known and loved.” Sorry if this is repetitive. But for me, I just kept coming back to the same points and it was like a revelation for me. It felt good. I was in an exciting place in my life, filled with soul baring honesty, and with that came a certain amount of vulnerability. I was trusting those around me to be good to me. I was showing my boyfriend my soft underbelly and trusting that he would be gentle and kind. And he was. And he is. And I count myself lucky to be known and loved the way that I am. It feels so good, that it's leaking over into other parts of my life. 

Letting Go A Little More...

So we (MacArthur and I) went out to the ocean today and scattered some of my mother's ashes. We hiked down to a beautiful small cove and said a few words. It was a strange combination of heavy, painful, and freeing. Such a weight was lifted when it was all done.

On the drive out to the beach, I was quiet. First, I got a call from Noreen (FHA president). She asked me how I was doing, and was actually very nice. I was glad I got a chance to connect with her, specifically *not* as her employee. For so many years, I worked for her, in such fear because of the things that my supervisor would say. She created an atmosphere of fear. I never really got to see Noreen as a whole person. As a human. I remember the guidance that I got from Niki was to keep under her radar. She made it seem like Noreen was a fire breathing dragon. When in fact, she's actually a very nice person. I mean she's just a normal human being. Powerful -yes. But that is *not* a bad thing. It's encouraging. I am always inspired when I get to see a strong woman in action. It's empowering *to me*. It helps me see that "I can do that too"! That I can develop those leadership qualities in me and help empower others (both women *and* men) in the world.

The next call I got on the way out... was from a gentleman from the cemetery. He told me that they had gotten the permit in sooner than anticipated, for my mother's burial, and that we could do it on Monday. So we moved it up a day.

The sooner the better is now my attitude. I realize that I have been carrying this enormous weight this last year. So much grief. So much seriousness and sadness. I feel like I have been dying slowly. On Monday, when we lay to rest, the remainder of my mother's ashes, I anticipate that it will not only feel like a relief and give my heart some peace and rest; but that it will also be somewhat like a symbolic death and burial of the last vestiges of the me that was before. The last of the old me. The child that could never imagine this kind of tragedy, or living past it alone. It's time to live. To embrace *living* -with joy. -Even without my mother. I'm kind of like a begrudging little caterpillar...that didn't really want to shed it's cocoon and blossom. I really didn't. I wanted to stay a caterpillar. Comfortable and loved by all of my caterpillar friends and family. But that's not how life worked out. I keep telling myself though that: this is a great opportunity to forge my life into whatever my heart desires. I'm casting off everything that I've ever known. Losing everything. Having my heart and family torn away. But having the space and opportunity to build a new life. Develop deeper relationships with distant family members and making them *not so distant*. -Close even. And I am so grateful for all of the people who have loved me through my darkness. And through my sadness. George, my mother's best friend, has always been a source of encouragement, strength, and laughter; which in my opinion is completely necessary for surviving the Spanish Inquisition. "No one *expects* The Spanish Inquisition" they say...but it happens to us all at one time or another in life. Heartbreak is part of being human. It's part of loving. And I guess it's worth it.

I felt so close to MacArthur today. So lucky that he is my love. And so sheltered from the storm by his love. Jodi put it well, when she said "I'm not the kind of person who believes in God. But if I *was* I would find it amazing that just as one great love of your life leaves...another one arrives." Truer words were never said. And I am so grateful for the grace that God, The Universe, or what-have-you has bestowed upon me.

I plan to go forward with my life, and live in a manor which would make my mother proud. I will be happy. I will have joy in my heart. And I will develop my abilities and contribute something of worth and value to the world around me. 

4th of July

This year, the fourth of July was loads of fun. I went to Sonoma, as usual, and watched the fireworks from the grassy fields next to General Vallejo's house. At first, it looked like there was going to be a group of us...which dwindled down, in the end to two couples. The other car load of people never made it out of Petaluma. Sometimes wrangling a bunch of people together can be a little bit challenging. Oh well...so some of us were in P-town watching the fireworks. The rest of us: Mac, Bean, Katrina and I had front-row seats for a beautiful fireworks show. We brought a large soft blanket and spread out. Mac was sweet enough to carry the bulk of everything from the car and actually set up while I went looking for my friends. I have to say...the cute boy picked a pretty nice spot. :)

On our way out of town, we picked up some tri-tip from Oliver's and various other goodies to nosh for our pick-nick dinner. Bean and Katrina brought the beverages. It felt good watching the fireworks...falling back into a *happy* tradition of mine. I guess those are the things that you do, in order to rebuild your happiness.

Surrounding us, as we watched the fireworks, there was a cacophony of various cries from the crowd. Some were cute and funny, like the 4-year old little girl who kept exclaiming with such sincerity things like: "This is the best fourth of July ever!". Some were just the average hoots and cheers as the show really got under way. And then there were the others. -The annoying group of yahoo's who unfortunately sat directly behind us and kept calling out things like "Penis!", "Homer Simpson!", "Freedom isn't free!"...on and on and on. The first time it was a little funny. But it got old quick. Apparently not to them thought because they kept it up throughout the entire show. At some point, a small single-prop aircraft began to circle the fireworks. Which "ruined it" for the yahoo's sitting behind us. -This I found very amusing, since they had been "ruining it" for the rest of us.

When the show was over, our group sat and relaxed merrily talking and laughing away. From experience, I've learned that you have two good options: 1. run for the car immediately and peel out of the parking lot before anyone else gets back to theirs. or 2. relax and watch the stars and hang out a while longer, giving the throngs of people time to sit in their cars...until slowly, the traffic moves through and by the time you get to your car...there's no waiting. :) We took option 2.

Katrina even was nice enough to take a picture for the yahoo's to commemorate the occasion. (she's such a nice girl!)

Sometime after the crowds had started to clear, I noticed a heap of stuff right next to us. "Somebody left their bag of garbage there."  -Ooops! Turns out I was wrong. It was the small woman who kept calling out "beautiful" throughout the show. She was drunk and had passed out. She started talking in her sleep, and it became apparent that she had undergone some sort of trauma in her life.

It reminded me of all of those sad and lost souls that I would come across in the SNF's The old woman in the hallway, who was so distraught. So sure that I was her daughter and that she had to make things right with me. She felt so bad. I couldn't convince her that I was actually somebody else, and that we were in a medical facility. That I was actually there to see *my* mother at the end of the hallway. She grabbed onto my hand and looked deeply, pleadingly into my eyes. The only thing that I could do for her, was play along. I forgave her. I pretended to be her daughter, and told her that everything was going to be all right. That she was safe and loved. And that everything was OK. It calmed her down immediately. She sat back into her wheelchair with a feeling of relief. Some part of me felt a little bad for my deception. But I also thought "Well...what can I really do to help this woman feel OK right here and now?"

Mac suggested that we give the woman our blanket. To which I thought immediately "No way! My mom gave me this blanket." It was one of the very last things my mother ever gave me. I remember at the time the frustration that I had felt over her gift. I didn't want her to spend any money on me. But then, in subsequent years, I was glad that she had. It was a large, soft, pale grass-green blanket. The texture of it even looked a bit like grass. I can't tell you how many times I fished that blanket out of the dryer and wrapped it around my mom. Or the pizza Friday's that we would spend snuggled up underneath it as we watched movies and ate popcorn. So when Mac suggested giving it to this homeless woman, my heart clamped down and said NO. The woman must have heard us talking about it because she asked us if we had a blanket we could give her. She then went on to tell us how she was so cold. Which also went straight to my heart, and overrided my *no*. I thought about all of those times that my mother needed somebody's love and nurturance. And how in this world, it is so easy to *not give*...to ignore. To turn away from our opportunities to be of service to others simply because it is in our own best interest or even worse...just because it's easy. -Yep. I was guilty of that. I was being selfish and small. Guilty as charged.

"Do you have a home?" I asked. -I wanted to make sure, before I gave her my beloved wubby...that she wasn't just some rich drunk Sonoma housewife who had passed out in the field and would toddle on home in the morning.

"Not now." she replied. (oh.)

"OK. We have a blanket for you. We'll give it to you in a minute after we've packed up our stuff."

"Thank you."

We packed up the remainder of our pick-nick, and put a small pile of individual containers of food right next to her with an apple juice for when she woke up in the morning. Then, Tim and I covered her up with the blanket.

"There you go sweetie."

As we walked back to the car, Mac kissed me and promised me that he would buy me a new blanket. He said that it was *his* mom coming out in him. Her generosity of spirit. I know that in many ways, Mac's mother contributed quite a bit to the world around her. Giving that woman my blanket was the right thing to do. I can't say that it was easy. It was my favorite blanket and in some way felt a bit like letting go of my mother, not just a blanket. But it was the right thing to do.

...Hey...after all...it's just a blanket right? I can buy a new one. No biggie.

Minty Fresh Breath

So...I was laying on my bed with the cute boy. A girlfriend of mine works as a dental assistant and she was telling the girls from ladies night how Crest and Colgate are really bad for your teeth. Crest in particular. I have Crest at home. I love the painfully minty feeling in my mouth. And how it lingers afterwards. I guess it's not so much the pain that I like...as it is the feeling that I am really cleaning the shit out of my teeth! Anyhoo...my friend told me that the primary ingredient in Crest is crushed glass. Glass? Glass! And that it basically erodes your enamel and doesn't really do a good job of cleaning your teeth and gums. I did notice that sometimes after brushing my teeth I would have a slightly raw feeling in my mouth. I just chalked it up to over zealous brushing...but it turns out it was the glass filler in my toothpaste. Shame on you Crest! She suggested using Sensodyne, or Tom's of Maine, Aquafresh...

Flash forward, and I have my new tube of Tom's of Maine toothpaste. I love it! And it does actually clean my teeth better than Crest did...No painful minty sensation and my gums are happier too. So I ask my boyfriend how he likes the new toothpaste?

V: "Did you try the new toothpaste?" (said enthusiastically)
CB:"It's kind of oily."
V: "Oily?"
CB: "Yeah. I mean it works. But it's kind of oily."
V: "What do you mean?"
CB: "Just that it tastes like oil."
V: "You're talking about the new toothpaste I got right?"
CB: "Yeah. The natural one."
V: "Yes. It's white right?"
CB: "It said toothpaste on it. It's natural right?"

at this point the Cute Boy gets up and goes to check the toothpaste in the bathroom. I'm quite sure that whatever he's been brushing his teeth with is *not* in fact my toothpaste, and he's convinced that it is...but he still has to check. When he comes back...the mystery is solved.

CB: "I used the dog toothpaste."
V: (insert hysterical laughter here)
CB: "Well it said toothpaste in big bold letters. And natural. And then in small letters at the very bottom it said 'for dogs'. Plus you had it on your sink where most people keep their toothpaste."
V: (more hysterical laughter)

Here's the dog toothpaste. I can see what he was talking about. If you were tired. It would be easy to just see the big bold red lettering of "Natural Toothpaste" and give it a go...teehee.

This is more what *my* toothpaste looks like.

In the Cute Boy's defense...he was right. I did do all of those things. I keep my toothpaste in my shower with my toothbrush...because that's where *I* brush my teeth in the morning while I'm taking a shower. It makes perfect sense *to me*. And I did have the dog toothpaste in the bathroom by the sink...because I was brushing my dog's teeth. :) LOL.

V: "So it didn't taste like peanut butter?"
CB: "Not really. You can try it if you want."
V: "That's OK. I'll take your word for it." :)

I LOVE YOU CUTE BOY!

YOU ARE THE BEST

YOU ARE THE FUNNIEST

AND I HAVE THE MOST FUN 
SHARING MY LIFE WITH YOU!

ALSO...

I KEEP MY TOOTHPASTE IN THE SHOWER.

FYI.

One Gallon Of Water For An Exhausted Girl Please!

Wednesday, March 9, 2011 at 11:52pm

After finally emptying out the storage container with Cute Boy (thank you Cute Boy! You are wonderful and I do appreciate it!) I found myself parched. I headed down to Safeway with the pooches in the BMW. It was late, but I knew what I wanted -a gallon of bottled water. As I headed into the store, a homeless man sitting on the sidewalk near the entrance of the store started talking to me. I quickly grabbed a small cart and as I pushed it past him, he made his request. He asked me if I would buy him a half gallon of milk and a sleeping pill so that he could go to sleep? Amusingly enough, I could relate to the importance of good sleep. I am nowhere near the chronic discomfort, cold, danger, and stress of a homeless person. My life, albeit a busy one and a challenging one is still safe and blessed. Because of the stress associated with taking care of my mom until her death, and of course dealing with the enormous life changes, sadness, and adjustment to this new phase of my life afterward I have had more than my fair share of sleepless nights. I had to cancell my work-outs today because after work, I realized that I felt dangerously exhausted. A day of caffinated drinks, stress, no lunch, on top of a major sleep deficit left me feeling nauseated. Earlier I was on my way to my first post-work workout (Wed's I have two. One with Mantights doing weights, and one with Karen doing cardio 20 minutes away in Petaluma.) And I felt like passing out in the car. So...I made the call and cleared my schedule. I was actually physically cold and having a hard time warming up. I made it home, ate a healthy dinner (brown rice and butternut squash were in it! Yay! Go team healthy!)  and promptly passed out in my bed. When I awoke two hours later, I was still cold and felt a little ill...but I no longer felt nauseated. -So upgrade. :) I had to clear out the storage container for the men to pick it up in the morning. Thank god my beau is so loving. He came over, and initially was ready to do the heavy lifting alone. "Point me in the right direction" he said. It warmed my heart that he was so giving. Cute Boy held me until I was warm again, and then together, we went out there and finished up the chore of clearing out the container. (I'm still amazingly and deeply appreciative and astounded by how wonderful he is and how much he cares about me.) After he left, I went to Safeway. Which brings us back to the homeless man. He began to get up to get closer to me and talk with me as soon as he realized that I was not going to just avoid all eye-contact and scurry off dismissively. I don't know exactly how to handle situations like this. On one hand, I am genuinely saddened when people become relegated to a sub-culture which is largely ignored and passed over by the general population. It must be hard existing in a world where you are invisible. Where a large portion of the population looks through you, looks past you, and doesn't even acknowledge you when you speak. As if you were a ghost. Or not even human. ...and then I also think about my mother or my grandmother. My grandma used to say that if a person asks you for a dollar give them two. If they steal from you, then they probably needed the money more than you did. I know that this sort of mentality has impacted me. I told the man that I would consider buying him the milk but not the sleeping pills. He tried persuading me by telling me that the sleeping pill (singluar!?! Weird.) was really cheap and over the counter. Only about a dollar. Which only weirded me out more. I told him firmly that I don't buy pills for anyone. Inside the store I quickly found my water and then headed over to the dairy section. I was going to get him just an individual milk. The kind that I enjoy getting at Starbucks when I'm not in the mood for coffee (which is often). I rationalized it with the fact that just because someone makes a request of you, does not mean that you are in any way obligated to fulfill that request. Especially slightly creepy homeless guys who start "giving you their order" as you grab your grocery cart outside. In the end, I compromised with my conscience and got him a quart of milk. A half gallon seemed rediculous. Especially for someone without a refridgerator. A quart of milk was reasonable. I was pushing my cart up to the express lane, when lo and behold...the homeless guy was in the store. He had come looking for me. (Nice. Why do things like this happen to me?) I put my things on the conveyor belt and stood in line. He tried standing too close to me. I backed up and put the cart between us. While still trying to be kind, I also wanted to protect myself. I was still light-headed and tired from earlier and realized just how much of a potential mark I was at that moment. He started telling me how good the water was that I was buying. He went on and on about how it was "the real deal, not like that other stuff that's just *tap-water*!" I was slightly amused that the homeless guy had *attitude* about tap water. ...You know...that stuff that I drink all the time at home. :D I guess I'm just not classy enough for him. :D He then ran his hand over the gallon of water really rubbing it on the cap. His hands were filthy. But I pretended not to notice and tried to stay in touch with my humanity. I wanted to look him in the eye. Treat him like an equal. And to remember that there but for the grace of God go you or I. It was an exercise in staying in touch with my humanity. And remembering that each and every one of us is immesurably valuable. It's so easy to forget in moments like this. I paid for my things. The 20-something year old jocks in front of me in the line looked uncomfortable. In fact, everyone looked a little uncomfortable. The man's hair was craggly and wild. I don't know if he owned a brush or a comb. Or if he even cared? Hs beard was over-grown and dirty. And he looked like he was missing teeth. His eyes appeared a bit wild. Like a ferral cat; too used to living on the edge of our world. Too accustomed to being in a position like this one to give outward signs of caring. I handed him the milk and said "this is yours." I smiled at him. And he thanked me. He looked prepared to keep close to me and follow me out of the store. Still talking loudly. A bit too loudly to be quite normal or conversational. Luckily, the checker who knows me asked if I would like help out tonight. I said yes. I felt both guilty and relieved at that moment. I felt bad for feeling uncomfortable. But I also felt relief that I would be protected. I knew I would make it safely out to my car without any awkward conversation or further requests for sleeping pills. The woman who helped me out with my gallon of water. HA! was very solid and understanding. I really appreciated it. I got in my car, drove home, and washed the outside of the water container. Then drank some and relaxed.

 ·  · Share · Delete

• • 

    Alexia Woolley I, too, have found myself in similar situations. I don't know what the happy medium is. When you figure it out, let me know. :)

    March 10 at 9:49am ·  ·  1 person
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    Jodi Arata I love your writing -- somehow you made this very typical kind of interaction seem intensely interesting. And it really is practically impossible to find the happy medium.

    March 10 at 6:38pm ·  ·  1 person
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    Alorha Breaw 

    Your Grandma sounds like she was a very special lady! I too, have often been approached for 'milk' of late (don't know if this will help but have said "yes, but if you follow me, deals off")... when I asked a lady about the milk, was told it helps quench thirst & hunger & lets them sleep. Her tears, when I handed her a small bag with towelettes, a hair brush, a little bit of food... made me cry ~ and even more grateful for my friends & those I love so very much. xox

    March 14 at 4:49pm ·  ·  1 person